


The Necklace

by alreadysomeone



Category: JAG (TV 1995)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:02:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27152170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alreadysomeone/pseuds/alreadysomeone
Summary: A romantic (and smutty!) view of Webb and Mac as they begin their mission in Paraguay.  For Paula.
Relationships: Sarah MacKenzie/Clayton Webb





	The Necklace

***********  
It didn’t begin when he said, “I can take care of that.”   
It didn’t begin when she made the crack about missiles and men flying straight.   
It didn’t even begin when he put the necklace around her neck.  
It began in the moment afterwards, when he touched her arm.  
*********** 

Sarah took his dry remark about "taking care" of her pregnancy for just what it was: typical. Clay coming in, asking for help, and being nothing but sarcastic in his explanation was nothing new. She loved it, and she hated it, all at the same time. There was a wicked side to his humor that, given the right circumstances, Sarah thought could maybe be fun -- even sexy. But, in the work place, when he was withholding information – that was just dangerous. 

In Sarah’s view, there was one huge difference in his approach to this particular operation. He wanted her; just her. <> Sarah chuckled to herself on her way to Langley, where Clay would take care of "getting her pregnant," with the help of the costume experts at the CIA. But, still, she was flattered he’d chosen her. 

Clay was nervous. He knew he had all the "real" reasons in the world for wanting her on this op, but was still afraid he'd betray some of the other reasons; his personal reasons. Like the fact that he trusted her instincts more than any of the hard-nosed CIA female operatives, or that, when he'd come up with his cover story about having a wife and family, he'd pictured her all along. It was just a fun little game at first, to give the image in his head a real face, a real body. Thinking of someone specific made it easier to play the cover; thinking of Sarah made South America bearable for Clay. By the time he'd arrived in Chegwidden's office, Clay couldn't have even fathomed bringing any other woman on board. 

On her drive to Langley, Sarah left the legal world behind, both physically and mentally. She prepared herself for the operation, and was looking surprisingly forward to it. The challenge was a welcome one. She liked being in the field, part of her thrived on the danger of being under cover. Sarah even had a fleeting thought about applying for a permanent position with the Company, if this went well. 

<> she reprimanded herself. 

At the CIA’s headquarters, Clay filled Sarah in on *some* of the details of the operation; she knew he was holding things back, but instinctively trusted his judgment. Sarah paid close attention, anxious to remember every detail, knowing that there was a chance her life - or his - could depend on it. Instead of the tense and overbearing protectiveness her usual partner would have smothered her with, Sarah liked Clay's easy tone. He was open to her jokes, and she even felt free to toss out a barely disguised double entendre. 

Clay couldn't help watching Sarah’s silhouette as she was fitted with the pregnancy suit. Her natural shape was suddenly transformed into that of an expectant mother, and wife. His wife; and, the mother of his child. Clay smiled as they tossed snappy lines back and forth, and he loved her humor - especially her slightly sexual joke about the advantages of missiles *and* men flying straight. It brought a surprised smile to his face, before he re-focused back on his briefing. 

Behind the frosted glass partition, Sarah smiled, too, feeling his almost reluctant appreciation for her humor, and sensing a growing warmth between them. She knew they’d work well together; they’d had a glimpse of that in Afghanistan. She couldn't imagine anyone she trusted more, and hoped his trust in her was one of the "I’m not at liberty to say" reasons he'd chosen her for this assignment. 

The necklace was impressive; truly amazing. Sarah liked the simple design, and, when Clay put it around her neck, the heavy, cool metal of the setting made her skin tingle. But when Clay touched her bare arm, urging her to turn back around and face him, Sarah thought maybe her goose bumps were from his touch rather than the necklace. She nearly came to a physical halt to consider the sensual feeling of his hand on her skin, caused by even that brief touch. She wanted the time to remember how, just a couple of seconds ago, his fingers had felt on the back of her neck. Instead, Sarah made herself concentrate on what Clay, and the Company’s resident gemologist, were saying, knowing the information they were imparting was vital. 

Clay had forced his hands to steady themselves as he fumbled, just a little, fastening the clasp of the necklace. He also took every opportunity to touch her. They'd be touching as man and wife, in front of his contacts in Paraguay; he needed to get used to it. But when he felt the smooth skin of her neck under his fingers, Clay was certain he'd never get used to touching Sarah MacKenzie. She wasn't someone he wanted to get used to; never wanted to be complacent about her intelligence, her loyalty, or her beauty. 

"With this ring, I thee wed," Clay said solemnly. He liked the way she appreciated his humor. Not many people understood his wry wit, and most took offense. 

Sarah smiled at his deadpan delivery, “Umm.... You do know how to treat a girl.” 

Throughout the rest of her briefings, she studied Clay's demeanor, noted the tinge of anxiety in his manner, and played up their game of verbal banter to put him at ease. When she caught him smiling openly at her, she was positive the op would be a success. 

It took almost the rest of the day, and their long flights to Paraguay, but Clay was gradually getting comfortable with Sarah's presence. He eventually found himself feeling completely at ease; his confidence, which had taken such a beating over the last eight months, was being built up again, in large part thanks to her. Sarah was winning his heart, which had probably been partly in her hands for the better part of the last several years. He didn't care that maybe Rabb would end up with her some day, or that maybe he already was with her. Clay just wanted to be able to smile at her and find her smiling back at him, the way they were right now, in this hotel room in Paraguay, on the eve of a dangerous mission that he’d been praying would have a positive outcome. 

Sarah smiled back, still glad to be involved in this operation, in spite of the possible hazards that lay before them in the coming days. Speaking her mind to Harm the previous night had been refreshing for her, and she felt good; stronger than she had in a long, long time. Re-gaining her confidence in her own emotions, Sarah had congratulated herself on finally calling Harm on his games. It was time to put a halt to the way he’d controlled their emotional relationship. <> she thought, with an empowering kind of anger. 

Clay had found the hidden weapons, closed the drapes, and she was getting ready for bed. Almost without thinking, he began asking her personal questions. Clay felt as if his mouth were on autopilot; the things he was saying were questions and sentiments he’d held at bay for ages.   
“You have the right man, don’t you?” He wondered if she assumed, as he was sure Rabb did, that they’d simply end up together “in the end,” whenever that was? 

Her replies surprised and pleased him. She apparently did know Rabb for what he was: pushy, and over the top in his convictions. Clay had meant what he said about Harm not being his first choice. He’d not really considered, before now, just *who* his first choice would be. Although, then and there, Clay knew he wanted, in his heart, to be her first choice. 

“I don’t see any women in your life,” Sarah teased. 

“’Cept you.” He was starting to feel confident with their conversation; Clay was having fun. 

“I’m a rental,” Sarah reminded him. She laughed at the way it could’ve been construed – that he’d rented her for the night, for a different kind of ‘operation.’ 

“I’ve had my share of women.” Clay stepped into her personal space, while issuing the cocksure statement. 

True to form, and in a prime illustration of one of the reasons he’d started to fall in love with her, Sarah didn’t let him get away with his chauvinistic display. She reminded him of the women she’d seen him with, and her description was none too flattering. Clay didn’t mind, though; verbally sparring with Sarah was exhilarating; and, there was no doubt about *her* intelligence. Beauty was one thing, but her brains were what made her truly sexy. 

Sarah, too, felt the thrill of the chemistry that was brewing between them. She needed to spit, though. It wasn’t a reaction to Clay; rather, it was her toothpaste. She also wanted a second to gather her thoughts, or, more accurately, her emotions. Why was talking with Clay so easy, when she’d spent years of emotional energy on Harm, trying in vain to get him to have half the conversation she and Clay had just been having? <>

Clay randomly looked through the book about diamonds, trying to distract himself from the way she was making him feel. Mostly, he wanted to keep feeling that way, but he wasn’t sure she was experiencing the same thing; besides, they needed to be on top of their game, not distracted by carnal attractions. 

He noticed her starting to take the necklace off, and jumped at the chance to get next to her again, to be close, to touch her in that simple, but intimate way; “I’ll do that.” 

She turned, and looked down, exposing the long expanse of her neck to Clay, making herself vulnerable before him, literally and figuratively. She could’ve denied him access, telling him she could do it herself – of course she was capable, they both knew that. 

“You look really good with a half a million dollars in diamonds hanging around your neck.” 

Clay sincerely meant the compliment, and timed his words to cover the tremor in his hands as he undid the clasp. He suppressed the urge to continue with a direct come-on, ‘And you’d look even better if that was the only thing you had on right now.’ 

He didn’t know it, but Sarah would have responded favorably to him, had he the nerve to say it. Instead, she had to throw down the challenge. Facing Clay, Sarah said, “You mind turning around?” 

“Yes.” Clay’s heart was starting to pound. She could take him seriously, or simply leave the remark alone, and retreat to the privacy of the bathroom. He prayed she’d take him seriously – *very* seriously, regardless of the eager smile he knew he had plastered on his face as he met her eyes. 

“Suit yourself.” 

Pulling the black stretchy top over her head, Sarah wasn’t sure if Clay would still be facing her when she emerged from the material as it passed over her eyes. He was. The flipping feeling in her stomach, beneath the padding of the pregnancy suit, made her pulse race, and her face flush. 

“You didn’t turn around.” 

“No.” 

Clay’s smile was almost gone, but she could see it pulling at the edges of his lips. Their stand-off began. He looked first at her eyes, then at her mouth, and finally *into* her eyes. The air between them was growing thick with energy. She wanted to move forward, and felt a pull towards him that excited her. The way he was not breaking their stare, and the way his lips were twitching, in what she hoped was anticipation of a kiss, were making her feel amazing. Like *she* was worth a half a million dollars. 

He loved that he could look her in the eye; that she was a close match to his height. But looking at her beautiful face, and into her captivating eyes, wasn’t enough, although he’d never grow tired of it. At the very same moment, Clay and Sarah leaned toward one another, and met in a kiss. 

“Sarah,” he whispered the moment it was over. Far too soon, as far as he was concerned. 

“Yes?” 

“Take that thing off.” 

“With pleasure,” Sarah said, backing up to remove the hot, padded embellishments around her belly, which had made her into the expectant mother. 

Clay watched as she wriggled out of the contraption, silently thankful he didn’t have to wear anything like it. Realizing he still had the necklace in his hand, Clay bent to lay it in her open suitcase. Standing back up, her lips captured his immediately. There was a sexuality in the kiss that had only been hinted at in the first meeting of their lips. His arms went to her waist in an instant, taking advantage of the fact that she was now only wearing a bra on top. The flats of his palms slid from her sides to her back, exploring the muscles along her spine. 

Sarah moved against Clay, pressing her torso into his. He’d looked good in the loose button-down shirt, and she was anxious to feel his chest against hers, pressing into her breasts, and heaving under his heavy breathing. He edged his tongue along the seam of her lips, wanting to taste her, silently pleading for her to open herself up to him. Complying, Sarah was thrilled at the first taste of him on her tongue. A new sensation swept over them; the taste and texture of one another was intoxicating. 

Hot and breathy, Clay paused their kiss to say her name against her cheek, “Sarah.” 

She’d been enjoying the sound of her first name coming from him, just now taking note that he’d been using it more frequently than necessary over the last day and a half. 

“Clay,” she teased, suspecting he’d been saying it so often on purpose. 

“You’re amazing. I mean it, not just for this,” he gestured to their tight embrace, but before he could continue, Sarah interrupted. 

“I know.” And she did. She knew he’d picked her for this mission for a particular reason, and it wasn’t to get her into bed. “You’re pretty amazing, too – and I don’t mean just ‘this,’ either, but ‘this’ has its merits.” 

“You think?” 

“I do.” With that, she bent to kiss the exposed skin at the top of his shirt. And she didn’t stop. Bestowing kisses along his collar, Sarah worked her way to his neckline, while Clay moaned in pleasure at her attentions. Sarah tasted, teased, and nibbled, while Clay’s hands explored her body, sliding and squeezing, pinching and caressing. He reached for the muscles at her rear, brought his fingers tips to her hard-peaked nipples, and, when she finally reached his mouth with hers, Clay’s arms reached around her to hold her as close as possible. 

At the first sounds of his pleasure, Sarah felt the hot moisture building in her, the illustration of her carnal need for him. She knew it wasn’t just a physical reaction – there was something happening between them, something more than the heat of the moment, or a need for sexual release. 

Her lips nipped and teased his, until he gained control of the kiss. Still holding her close, Clay engaged in a deep exploration of her mouth, and felt himself harden as she uttered a guttural sound of encouragement. Crushing their bodies together, Clay and Sarah contented themselves with kissing for some time, mapping out as much of each other’s bodies as possible, while pressed tightly together. 

It was getting uncomfortable. He wanted to lie down, to take her to bed, but there were suitcases to move, more clothes to shed, and he didn’t want to stop what he was doing. Sarah was the one who urged their lovemaking forward. She pulled her body away from him, keeping their lips engaged, and began to divest him of his shirt, undoing the buttons hastily. Clay took her cue, reaching to the front of her bra to find the clasp he couldn’t locate earlier at the back of the garment. In a snap, her breasts were free from the constraining material, and her hands stilled their actions on his belt buckle when he pressed his palms to her breasts, finding a new electricity in his touch on her bare skin there. 

Tilting his hips towards her, Sarah remembered her goal. She undid his buckle, finally, and managed to get the button and zipper taken care of, as well. Distracted by his open shirt, which she suddenly remembered, Sarah ran her hands over his stomach, and up to his chest. Muscles quivered as she did, and Clay couldn’t remember anyone making him feel this way. To him, her touch was soothing and cool, and like fire, all at the same time. She made him shiver, only to feel a hot flush where her hands had been in contact with his skin. When she traveled her caresses into the top of his boxer shorts, his cock surged with desire. He wanted to communicate what she was doing to him, but couldn’t form the words. He was in awe, and completely at her mercy. 

Sarah wanted nothing more than to pleasure him, and to take pleasure in the way he was making love to her. His hands weren’t idle as she explored his newly exposed skin. When she sunk a hand into his boxers to wrap her hand around his erection, Clay pinched at one of her nipples, and kissed her fiercely. She arched her back, thrusting her body towards him, wanting his hands to devour her; every inch of her. 

Without her having to voice her need, Clay complied. He reached down to hike up her skirt, happy the weather was warm enough for her to go bare legged. Wasting no time, his fingers dragged up Sarah’s thighs to the juncture between her legs. Sarah leaned into his touch when he reached her mound, palming her there, letting his fingers find the edge of her panties, right over the hottest part of her body. Working a finger under the material, Clay dipped a finger into her folds. Finding her wet urged him on, and he slowly caressed her, teasing, but not entering her. 

Sarah was getting lightheaded. The way he was touching her, the hardness of his cock in her hand, and the way she felt his erection harden even more as he discovered her folds, was dizzying. While Sarah wanted to lie down on the bed with Clay, she was reveling in the sweet, slow torture he was exacting upon her body. Kisses from her neck to the peaks of her breasts rained down on her as he swirled his fingers in her folds, not quite putting them where she wanted; where she needed him to. A moment more, and Sarah would have tossed him to the floor and taken him right there. At last, Clay let up his teasing and slipped a finger into her center, grinding his palm into her clit. Sarah’s orgasm took over her body rapidly, and she sought his mouth, to stifle the vocalizations of her release. He danced his tongue over hers as she rode out the waves of her climax. 

Untangling their limbs and bodies, Sarah and Clay kissed lightly as they finished undressing; a short intermission in their lovemaking, to find their way to the bed. Clay finally shrugged his shirt all the way off, tugged down his pants and boxers, toeing off his shoes before placing his clothes over the back of a chair, removing, at the last, his socks. 

He turned in time to see Sarah moving the suitcases from the bed, her fully naked form before him. Spinning around to face him, she held something in her hands. The necklace. 

“Give me a hand?” Sarah asked, holding up the exquisite piece of jewelry. 

“My pleasure.” Clay took the necklace from her, waited for Sarah to turn around, and fastened it around her neck. 

Then, he kissed every inch skin along the line of diamonds, as they made their way around her neck. 

“Hmmm, feels great.” 

“You taste incredible, Sarah. You are incredible.” 

“Come to bed.” 

Sarah pulled back the covers and lay down, holding her arms out to Clay, who walked to the edge of the bed, propped one knee up on the mattress, and looked down at her, beaming. 

“Those do look good on you, and I knew you’d look even better wearing *just* those diamonds.” 

Sarah smiled at Clay, fingering the expensive stones at her neckline with one hand, reaching for him with the other. She ran a hand up his thigh and watched as he closed his eyes and smiled. Her hand continued higher and higher, until she brushed his balls. At that, Clay opened his lids halfway to stare into her eyes while she gently caressed his erection and all around the ultra-sensitive skin. 

At last climbing into bed with her, Clay covered Sarah’s body with his, and felt her rise up to meet him. Lying down, bare skin touching bare skin, felt so good. The exploration began – he found a ticklish spot on the back of her knee that made her keen with laughter; with her tongue, she found the place on his cock that made him moan her name over and over. Sarah flicked her tongue on that spot on the underside of his erection until she felt him tugging at her shoulder. She knew what he wanted, and she wanted it, too. She’d been rubbing her clit against his leg, as she straddled his knee, moving her body against his, with the same strokes she was treating him to with her mouth. 

“Please, Sarah. I want to make love to you. You’re so beautiful and sexy. I just want to make you feel good.” 

“Clay…” Sarah wasn’t sure how to continue. She worried that it would sound silly to tell a man that she thought he was beautiful, too, and that just by being with him, in this bed, in this vulnerable and carnal way, he was making her feel, not just good, but *inconceivably* good. 

“Clay,” she tried again, pulling herself on top of him, his cock pressing between her legs, “You’re so sexy. You’ve already made me feel far more than good.” 

Erotic, open-mouthed kisses were interspersed with blatant gazing at one another, wonder and admiration plain in the expressions of their faces. 

Clay adjusted his body to a position more conducive to conversation. “I’m clean. Are you on anything?” he asked, not embarrassed or nervous about the necessity of the queries. 

“Depo-Provera,” Sarah assured him, thankful for the miracle of modern birth control methods. “I’ve got a squeaky clean record, too,” she added as an after thought. 

“Good, because a married man with a pregnant wife, buying condoms at the hotel store, wouldn’t be good for our cover.” 

“No kidding.” Sarah smiled at his joke, and they were both happy to find that the humor between them hadn’t disappeared, even in bed. 

Guiding her hips, Clay watched keenly as Sarah lowered herself over his erection, slowly engulfing him all the way. She watched his face, marveling at his features; his dimples, and the way his brow furrowed in concentration, and then relaxed completely, once she was fully sheathing him. 

Moving in tandem, Clay and Sarah slowly found their rhythm. Sarah felt as if she could sense every ripple on his cock, as it passed over her inner muscles. Clay arched higher and higher off the bed in an effort to bury himself as deeply as possible in her. He wanted to lose himself in Sarah MacKenzie, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he was praying she’d let him stay that way forever. 

Sarah’s motions sped up, and she fell forward into Clay’s waiting embrace as she felt another orgasm approaching. With strong thrusts, Clay gave her all the pleasure he could, varying the rotations of his hips, in time to the panting breaths she was taking. She just needed one more thing to put her over the edge: his kiss. Sealing her lips over his, their tongues met and mimicked the actions of their hips. The blinding light behind her tightly squeezed eyelids subsided as she relaxed her body once again. Sarah then became aware of Clay’s patient need. She smiled wickedly at him, and, with her body, demanded that he roll on top of her.   
With no protest, Clay held onto Sarah’s hips, and spun them around so that he was settled between her legs, his cock still surrounded by her tight walls. 

“God, you’re sexy,” Clay reverently whispered, just beginning to move his hips. 

Sarah lifted her legs high up around his torso, and encouraged his thick cock to deepen its passage within her. His hair, which had been so neatly combed when he’d showed up at JAG the day before, and had then been tousled by the endless hours of travel, now fell across his forehead and stayed there. Sarah thought for a moment to brush it out of his face, but the idea was lost from her memory as he thrust increasingly harder into her center. Sarah was sure she’d never felt this way before. Sexy and wanton, but safe and secure, too. Clay’s eyes tried to assure her that this was more than sex. It was certainly physical pleasure, but it was also far beyond his dreams of what making love could be. 

She knew this kind of intensity came only from something that was a mix of lust and intimacy. They would’ve used the word “friend” to describe one another before tonight. Now, however, she couldn’t imagine not always wanting to feel him this way, so raw in his desire for her, and driving her to the brink once again. He saw the look pass over her face, and hoped he could bring her pleasure for the third time tonight. Resting his weight on a forearm, Clay reached between them and sought the bundle of nerves that would put her over the edge. The combination of his cock caressing her with his thrusts, his fingers deftly manipulating her clit, and his lips at her ear whispering his encouragement, sent her spinning. 

The clenching of her inner walls was too much for him. Clay let himself go, as well, and with a small bite to her shoulder, he jerked his hips forward once more, and they both felt his throbbing erection within her, pounding out his ecstasy. 

Kisses and caresses, tender strokes and nuzzles; they slept curled up together. Blissful in their rest, and exhausted from their lovemaking; but ready to take on whatever was required of them over the next few days or weeks, each knew their union would lend their cover all the more credence. And that, as Clay’s plan unfolded, they would protect one another fiercely, just as a true husband and wife would do.

END


End file.
